


Playing House

by Leni



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Episode Related, F/F, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenna POV, Jenna/Nikita. During <span class="u"><a href="http://nightingale1.tripod.com/ot.htm">Open Heart</a></span>. (and HUH. Who'd have thought - Jenna was played by Gina Torres. Funny.) <i>Beware the femmeslash!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> _Written for_ simplelyric _at[Help Haiti](http://help_haiti.livejournal.com/info)._

One more week, and she would start cozying up to Stanko. Blowing up in this rat hole would be a real waste unless that bastard comes with her. Wouldn't mind the few privileges of a guard's whore - call them a last meal.

But her mark arrives, all attitude and kitten claws, playing prison as toddlers would in a playground.

"I say the weather's bad for blondes," Adrian hisses, pride more stung than her kicked stomach, and fingers two cigarette packages.

Jenna smiles. Call it the test of fire - if she's Section, their little problem will make it through all right.

 

Damn military inspections.

She should be lost in Section One headquarters, strapped to the walls and chained to their foundation. Her tic-toc song belongs to them, and instead she's still walking down her barred queendom.

Enters the knight.

Can't believe they're both still alive. Game over, Jenna thought last night, when the other woman finally made her move. An odd mix, she was, with a hint of remorse that showed how low Section's recruiting standards were.

"I can get us out of here," the blonde says.

Plan B, then. Jenna makes a token protest - her trainer would be so proud.

 

It's a shame Section technology can't be saved before their downfall. Whoever is on the other side of Nikita's muttered questions - her name is Nikita; they went over the formal introductions 5 bends ago - has done their homework.

"I'd say this is it," Nikita says, clearly relieved that the obstructing wall came down. Beating up one guard has bought her some peace, but it won't be long 'til the others drink up the courage to ambush her.

There was no Plan C, Jenna realizes. Section wouldn't have bothered to extract their operative.

And they call Red Cell the terrorist organization….

 

Porcelain doll. That's what Jenna has been privately calling Nikita. Never mind the strength and the fire, there are cracks in the woman. A drop of compassion when her full plate is left to a woman too weak for lunch line, tenderness when she gazes at the youngest inmates. Jenna's porcelain doll, if only for a few hours.

Jenna finishes cleaning the slashes, dropping light kisses against the unmarred areas, brushing her free hand against the other woman's thighs. Nikita murmurs a name, moves into her touch in her unconsciousness.

After all the pretenses, this is real.

Her bleeding doll.

 

Jenna never specialized in Valentine operations - playing with a target couldn't be as satisfying as crushing it.

(She caresses Nikita's blond hair, too soft for a drug-rat.)

Games never interested her. The direct approach, the tic-toc against her entrails…. That, Jenna understands.

(She kisses Nikita's lips, grabs her hands and places them toward her own hips. Pulls.)

But the last month had little challenges, and Jenna won't pass this one. There is only one Michael worth mentioning within Section; Jenna never expected to be pitted against one of his creations.

How… stimulating.

(Finally, Nikita starts touching her in earnest.)

Victory.

 

The End  
30/01/10


End file.
